


Countdown

by CelesteFitzgerald



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22029727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelesteFitzgerald/pseuds/CelesteFitzgerald
Summary: Paul and John have a little too much to drink on New Year's Eve, so George and Ringo sit back and enjoy the show.
Relationships: George Harrison & Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 6
Kudos: 84





	Countdown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IDONTGETNOSLEEPCAUSEOFYALL](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IDONTGETNOSLEEPCAUSEOFYALL/gifts).



George sat on the couch, sipping his champagne and watching the other three have fun. After the insanity of recording and touring, it was nice to spend New Year’s Eve with just Ringo, John, and Paul.

And it was probably for the best that they were in private on this particular evening, because Paul’s current behavior would be making a lot of headlines if the press were around to see it. They had all told him not to drink so much, but Paul was already finishing off his third glass of champagne.

“Mm,” Paul said as he swallowed the last few drops. “I’m gonna get one more,” he said, walking back toward the kitchen table.

George was about to jump up from the couch to stop him when Ringo made eye contact with him. Ringo gave George a small nod, so George sat back down—Ringo would take care of him this time.

“Hey, Paul,” Ringo said, wrapping an arm around Paul’s shoulder to hold him in place. “I think you’ve had enough to drink for now. If you drink any more, we won’t have enough left for all of us when it reaches midnight.”

Paul pouted and looked at the two remaining bottles sitting on the table. “We’re not even close to running out. C’mon, Ritchie, just one more,” Paul said, leaning his head onto Ringo’s shoulder as he spoke.

Ringo shared another look with George while they silently laughed at the way Paul nuzzled his head into Ringo’s neck. “Nah, gotta save that champagne,” Ringo instead. “Besides, I’ve only had one glass so far.” A blatant lie, but George didn’t argue with him. “Why should you get your fourth glass before I get my second?” Ringo added.

Still pouting, Paul let out a whine so loud that George could hear it all the way from the couch. Luckily, John came to his rescue.

“Stop ruining the fun,” John said, dragging Paul away from Ringo and toward the alcohol. John proceeded to pour two more glasses. He handed one to Paul and picked up the second himself. “Cheers, mate,” John said as he clinked his glass against Paul’s. They both smiled as they took a sip—well, more like a gulp. Maybe George should have been keeping a closer eye on John as well.

Sighing, Ringo gave up and joined George on the couch. “I’m too tired to deal with those two right now,” Ringo said.

“Of course,” George said, knowing that the real reason Ringo had sat down was because his own glass of champagne was on the coffee table in front of the couch.

As expected, Ringo grabbed a glass and took a sip.

“Um,” George said, tapping Ringo’s shoulder, “that glass was mine.”

Ringo spat the champagne back into the glass and started frantically wiping at his mouth. “What the hell, George? Why didn’t you tell me that before I…?”

He trailed off when he caught sight of George smirking at him—and holding his own champagne glass in his hand.

“…So that one _was_ mine?” Ringo asked, pointing at the glass he had just shoved back onto the table.

“Yep,” George said casually, taking another sip.

“You _arse_ ,” Ringo said, shoving George’s shoulder. “Why would you scare me like that?”

“Because it’s too much fun to watch you freak out over the idea of sharing germs. How you manage to snog anyone without getting sick at the thought of someone else’s saliva in your mouth is beyond me,” George teased.

Ringo’s eyes slowly widened in disgusted realization.

“You’re welcome,” George said, taking too much joy in the damage he had most likely caused to his friend’s love life.

Ringo scowled at George once more before they turned their attention back to John and Paul. They were still standing near the table with their glasses, but they were paying much more attention to each other than to the drinks in their hands.

John must have just told a joke, because they both erupted into laughter. Paul brought a hand to his mouth and bit his fingernail as he laughed. That action made John’s eyes flicker down to Paul’s mouth for a second before he told another joke and made Paul laugh even harder.

 _They’re both idiots_ , George thought as John kept watching Paul with that soft look in his eyes. It was obvious that they both liked each other—they were just too stubborn to be the first to admit it. If they were lucky, the alcohol might loosen them up enough to finally tell each other how they felt.

Speaking of alcohol, Paul definitely should have stopped drinking a while ago. Without warning, he wobbled on his feet and started falling to the left.

But John grabbed him just in time. John’s free arm instinctively wrapped around Paul’s waist, keeping him on his feet.

“Ah, shite,” Paul muttered, grabbing John’s arm for more support as he regained his balance.

“Alright, Paul?” John asked, their faces much closer together than before.

After waiting an unnaturally long time before answering, Paul looked up from John’s lips and nodded. “Yeah. ‘m great,” Paul slurred.

John smiled in satisfaction, then he slid his arm out from behind Paul’s back, pausing on Paul’s hip for a moment before dropping his hand back to his side.

They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds before Paul finally looked away. He brushed his fingers through his hair before glancing at his watch—and gasping. “It’s almost midnight! We’re gonna miss the countdown,” Paul said.

“Wh—already?” John said, echoing the thought that was in George’s own head.

“ _Shh_ ,” Paul said. “We’re gonna be late—grab your glass, grab your glass,” he insisted, unaware that the other three already had their glasses. “Here it is—ten, nine, eight….”

“What the hell is he doing?” George whispered to Ringo as Paul—and now John—kept shouting out the countdown.

“Who knows?” Ringo said as the countdown reached zero. “But let’s let him have his fun,” he added, clinking glasses with George before they looked back up to presumably watch Paul and John do the same.

Nope.

Not even close.

Paul, for some inexplicable reason, dropped his half-full glass on the floor.

Then he rushed forward, wrapped his arms around John, and kissed him.

John’s glass clattered to the floor. And he returned the kiss with fervor. John’s right hand returned to Paul’s hip while his left flew up to grab at Paul’s hair. The two of them were locked in their embrace for another minute before releasing each other.

With flushed faces, they both breathed heavily as John reached up to smooth Paul’s hair where he had messed it up. His hand lingered before he let go of Paul.

“I, uh…that was…you know….” Paul kept fumbling with his words as John’s smile grew.

“Happy New Year,” John said, leaning in to kiss Paul once more.

Paul giggled into the kiss, either due to the alcohol or his happiness that he finally had what he had been wanting for years. If no one stopped them, they would probably continue for another hour.

Ringo didn’t give them that option. “Hey—drunken lovebirds—you know it’s only ten o’clock, right?”

They broke apart from the kiss immediately. “What do you—no, it’s not,” Paul said as he looked back at his watch—“Bloody hell,” he said once he read the time properly.

John grabbed Paul’s wrist to look for himself. “Christ, Paul, you’re as blind as I am,” he yelled.

“Oh, come on, it was just a mistake,” Paul said. “I dunno what you’re all upset about—this just means we’ll get to do more… _celebrating_ in two hours when it’s actually midnight.”

A smirk appeared on John’s face. “How about we celebrate at eleven as well?”

“How about you celebrate in the other room so we don’t have to watch?” George called from the couch.

John’s smirk grew even wider, and George was filled with fear at what he may have accidentally just suggested. “Lovely idea, George,” John said. “Let’s go, Paul—I think we have lots of different types of celebrating to try.”

Paul eagerly took John’s hand as he led them out of the room, leaving Ringo and George alone on the couch. They sat in horrified silence as some very uncomfortable noises drifted into the room from down the hall.

“So,” George said, “what do you want to do while we wait for midnight, Ritchie?”

“Listen to very very loud music?”

“ _Yes please._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "it's close to the new year so paul getting tipsy on champagne would be cute" 
> 
> _Huge_ thanks to IDONTGETNOSLEEPCAUSEOFYALL, not just for the fic idea, but for always brightening my day with your kind comments. You are very appreciated <3


End file.
